Daily Republican., 1887-01-14
THE OTHER SIDE.
On. Dot

Shs DOtl
Fred Bellamy bursts into the shabby
little sitting room where Dot stands,
very sad and fearful, pressing her
round cheek against the window pa ne.
She has been christened Dorothy,
but knows no other appellation save
Dot. and being diminutive and alto
gether childish, 1t suits her wonder
fally well.
She turns slowly, and reveals IA Voc.
BECOME little face and big. brown,
misty eyes.
Al sight OF the tears Fred whistles
shriily. Tears and Do. are 30 strange
ly inappropriate.
We'll, ] neverf' he calculates.
thrussing his hands deep into his
pockets. "Cryingi And I've come
In here with news that don't believe
will make you very cheerful! What
dye think II is, Dot?"
Dots face assumes look OF reslg-
nation quite touching to behofl. II
seems TO the girlish heart that nothing
can be worse than existing circum-
stances.
"What Is it's she asks, dolefully.
"Mr. Walsingham has come"
"Oh -h-hr'
Surely this is the las, drop in the
bucket.
''And papa says you're to come
down at once" goes on the irrepressi-
Bile Fred. Really, Dot, don't see
any help for it. Try to get up little
courage, and wipe your eyes, and
and keep stiff upder lip. Afler all,
faint so very awiul--iust because n
man wants TO marry you. Father says
that you ought TO be overwhelmed
with-with--"
Gratitude" bursts in Dot, her slim
figure trembling with anger. "Grati-
tude, because this horrid, ugly old
man has. taken an insane fancy To
marry mel And to think that my
father" Immense emphasis) land my
mother" tstill greater emphasis
should both be against me, simply
because we are poor and Mr. Walsing-
ham is rich! Such large family as
we have, my dear Dorothy papa
says. as If could help that And
mamma says very little, but she looks
volumes; and altogether am the most
miserable girl in existence Fred, tell
me truly--what would you dor"
Fred, secure in the wisdom of his 10
years looks grave as an owl.
"Well, if 1t was me (never mind the
grammar, sis, would accept Mr..
Walsingham and be happy. Just
think Of the jolly nice things you
would havel Dresses and Jewels, and
opera and theatcrs, MISUNDERSTANDING
Kinks! My eyes! Dot, you would be a
foolish girl TO refuse such chance
And you're no beauty. you know. My
only wonder is how Mr.. Walsingham
happened to fall in love with you at all.
He says he has been watching you for
long time, and that's little funny.
for you have never met him-oh,
DotY'
Never. What is more, have no
desire to-"
There is fearful dignity in the
straight, erect little fisure, and the
low, clear voice trembles with iniig-
nation.
Truly Mr.. Walsingham's chances are
small.
"But he is an old friend of papa's."
Fred goes on. neditatively,
That's it, oldl Fancying my mar
rying one OF papa's old friends, com
rades, ctc.l Why, papa is over So"
A vigorous rapping at the door cuts
the colloquy short,
"Dotl Dot! papa says come right
ofi,'--ln a shrill, childish treble.
Dot marches to the mirror and
glances at herself with grim, dis
approving eyes. Tear stained face,
eyes crimson with weeping, thick,
curly brown hair all awry, slim fig
ure in a plain, brown gingham frock
and white collar-stiff, uncompromis-
ing dignity in every line and curve.
well, Pm not pretty to look at"
snaps Dot, nth vicious shake OF her
curly name and an angry tug at the re-
iraciory collar. 80 I'll go down and
disenchant him rs speedily as posi-
ble."
She opens the door, marches through
with the air of general about 10 lead
forlorn hope. and passes down the
long, bare corridor Everything about
the Bellamy domicile breathes of gen
teel poverty, and Dot knows it,
mo matter" she pants defiantly,
lit is better TO be ever so poor than TO
marry man one does not-cannot-l
love"
And since she has never, TO her own
knowledge, beheld the gentleman in
question, this seems rather u rash as
sertion
AT the head of the stairs she en-
counters her mother, tired looking
oyer-worked little woman, always
busy over the problem OF how TO make
five dollars successfully do the work of
ten. The mother OF six children, har-
assed by sixty thousand cares-no
wonder she is faded and old before her
time. Her eyes fall upon the forlorn
little figure, and she comes to u halt.
Dorothy"
Dot pauses meekly.
"1es. ma'amf'-yery demurely.
You are not going down stairs In
that dress?" gasps Mrs. Bellamy, land
with your hair in such plight And
-and-crying--actually! Go get your
sunbonnet Dot, and take little run in
the open air will make IL all right
with your father, When you have
quite recovered your spirits, you can
slip up stairs to your own room, aud
you will find fresh muslin all ready
to put on. 1t is my wish then that you
dress, and come down TO the parlor.
You understand me, Dot?'
"Yes-yes" sobs Dot, Historically, |
hinging her white arms around her
mothers neck.